


Beltane

by AVintageRose



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Beltane, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Jealous Castiel (Supernatural), Light Dom/sub, May Queen - Freeform, Pagan Gods, Witch Holiday, Witchcraft, witch reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-10-22 06:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17657765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AVintageRose/pseuds/AVintageRose
Summary: You're a witch, who has been hunting with Sam and Dean, and their adorkable angel Castiel for years now when the annual invitation from your coven pops up for Beltane, the holiday of spring, life, and... fertility.It's been so long since seeing you're family, and the boys know you want to go, but when Castiel offers to accompany you, he's probably not aware of your holiday's special meaning or of what happens when the moon comes up and the bonfire's are lit.





	1. The Invitation

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so allow me to clarify: YES Beltane is an actual holiday celebrated in Wiccan religion (and sometimes other religions). NO this is not meant to be a "perfect" representation of the holiday or those who celebrate it. YES I did do a lot of research in order to make a good story for it though. YES I use the term 'witch' and 'pagan' instead of 'Wiccan' because I do not want to seem like I'm bashing wiccans PLUS the actions here are much more fictionalized and better suited for the term 'witch' by this show's standards.
> 
> Extra Caution: In future, there is sexual content, sexual teasing, alcohol consumption, a little jealousy and slight Dom/Sub. AND This is literally my first fic on this site.
> 
> We good? Okay, great. As usual I do not own 'Supernatural' or any of it's characters, else I would be making my things cannon. But I'm not so...On With The Show!

Sam's POV

Sam knew the moment he walked across the metal walls of the hallway, that something was amiss. The air around him had something to it, it wasn't good, or even stoic and neutral as it should have been. As the height-gifted hunter met the staircase that led him down towards the Men of Letters bunker kitchen, the feeling only grew worse as he reached the linoleum plated room. It was a sort of anxiety like presence, one that could make the lump in a person't throat tie up into thick slimy knots around the intestines.

It was faint, but the shift in a calm atmosphere was enough to make Sam take a step back from going down the staircase. It wasn't like he was worried, and yet he felt his blood pumping at a faster rate than usual in the morning. Obviously these feelings weren't his own, but they were strong, and they made Sam uncomfortable.

Especially since he had an idea who was doing this.

* * *

Your POV

Your heart sunk as e/c eyes read and re-read over the boisterous neon green letters curved and curled in such a way across a sheet white landscape, also known as your laptop's screen. When you had first woken up this morning with the thought to check your emails, you hadn't even pondered the possibility of this happening, mostly because, in between hunting, researching, spell casting, and the ever present drama in the likely end of the world, and just your hunting partners having 'brotherly issues' on a day-to-day basis, you've lost track of time.

Sure subconsciously you knew it was spring time, even on the road you could tell the world outside had gotten much warmer, and on the off chance you did have some down time, it was likely spent outdoors, working on your garden, or walking through the forest path provided with the Men of Letters bunker. But it hadn't even crossed your mind that it was almost May!

Not until your childhood coven's invitation came into sight.

Your family knew you were traveling now, even if they were kept in the dark about the more dangerous work on your resume as of late. So in order to keep tabs, it was decided you keep one good cell phone number for them, and one good email address. It was actually quite rare for hunters to own such communications for reasons not related to work.

This morning you woke up early, and on the right side of the bed. Your aura was tickled pink and energized to start the day, as you practically skipped down the stairs. First was starting the boys some coffee with one hand, whilst the other wielded the stove on the other side of the room to turn on so that the pre-arranged bacon and eggs could simmer. The sugary gooey batter you were stirring was given an extra sprinkle of cinnamon and vanilla for that delightful spice licked sweetness to be pressed into the waffle maker.

The night before, you had extracted some fresh rose oil, and now the entire room was blanketed in a thick, lemony fresh air perfect to start off the day. And, as expected when you inhaled that rich scent of freshness, your soul glowed bright within you.

As was breakfast was booming and Sam and Dean were only a few minutes due to come in and gobble down the meal provided, you proceeded to set down and open up your laptop (which unlike Sam's, had been Dean-proofed) to check up on any news spanning from your coven or any other.

At first all you spotted were stupid ads that had not been properly sent to the SPAM box, there were a few news stories that looked interesting, but so far, nothing you haven't already seen.

Until a new one showed up three minutes after you logged in.

The link said it was sent by  **Silver-Pine Estate** which you recognized as the house of one of your coven's oldest reigning heads.

Interest peaked, you clicked on it, and found, not a message, but a blaring invitation staring back at you.

The picture was white, whilst lovely illustrated leaves and swerving vines flourished and different colored blooms decorated the sides and corners. At the bottom were two silhouettes also coated in leaves and flower petals, the feminine figure of the May Queen in the arms of her beloved May King the Green Man.

At the top, in those mockingly bright green letters, was your invitation.

**"You Are Warmly Invited to the Annual Celebration of Beltane this April 30th to May 2nd of This Year"**

**"All coven members and partners are permitted and welcome to celebrate the peak of spring"**

**"To be held at the Carsonville Plantation and Lodgings"**

**"Contact a coven head ASAP for confirmation and any questions"**

**"Blessed Be"**

At the bottom there was both a phone number and an email address listed by the sender.

The first thing you did was look down at your computer's clock and date  _4/15/xx_.

How could you have been so stupid, so ridiculous in loosing your time like that? Beltane was only one of the most important holidays on the calendar, a holiday of growth, of life; one that you had celebrated every year, but now, you decide to just forget? Seriously Y/N, what kind of a witch are you?

Suddenly that sweet atmosphere was gone. The stove turned itself off, the candle lightening the rose oil extinguished itself, and the light of your soul backed down on it's blinding shine. Basically, you turned off the energy, the magic knew you wanted to sulk and it let you. So many things needed to be done, and you weren't prepared for the circumstances. It was too early in the morning, you had been in such a good mood, but now all you could do is stare and stare at that horrid digital invitation and hate yourself for such incompetence.

Placing your head in your hands, you allowed yourself the relief of a long groan.

"Well good-morning to you too."

Realizing self-indulgent pity parties were over, you sat up and immediately got a hold of yourself. The stove, and coffee maker turned back on, but you kept the rose off. You recognized you were admitting negative energies into the air, and focused on closing them back up. Normally, keeping your energy in check was easy, it was just a early morning happy to depressed mood that stirred you off and allowed a little anxiety to enter the area.

But that didn't mean you couldn't throw a nasty glare Dean Winchester's way.

The smart-mouth gave a low whistle and mumbled about how different it'd be 'if looks could kill'

_*Oh how I wish*_

"Good-morning Y/N." Sam came strolling in, a much more pleasant aura around him as he took his plate and proceeded in taking a waffle, two strips on bacon, and a cup of freshly made brew for himself.

"I got some fresh oranges from a farmer's market yesterday." You added. "I placed a bowl for them on top of the refrigerator."

The light in his eyes brightened, and you could see that same aura develop a brighter shade of tranquility at the mention of fresh fruit in tow.

Dean, meanwhile, was fine stuffing strip after strip of bacon on top of one of his waffles, so that he could place the other on top in a strange 'breakfast sandwich' for he alone to munch on. With both brothers in content with the breakfast you made them, you proceeded in drawing your hatred towards the holiday invitation in front of you.

It had been so long since you had actually attended a Beltane festival. Though, to be fair, you had been on a cases, or a apocalyptic warfare these past few years. And truthfully, you loved your culture, and with it, you loved the holiday of Beltane. It was meant to represent growth and life, that being why it was celebrated at the peak of spring but...

well...

By day, Beltane was light hearted; children danced around the May pole, and trees and alters would be decorated in honor of the May Queen and May King's wedding. People would craft egg charms for the spring whilst wearing newly woven wildflower crowns. As a child you adored gorging yourself on the homemade sweetbreads, berry pies, and honey coated treats. It was fun, and sweet.

But by night, once the bonfires were set ablaze, and the children were well enough away, the mead was brought and shared until people were practically drowned in it. Many the daring witch went flying into the woods, shedding their clothing so that they may feel the burning skin of their partners, as they relished in fertility on Mother Earth's raw, untainted ground. Couples would spend the night together, feasting on their most primal sides, whilst others would release all inhibitions completely with strangers and groups of aroused bodies. The stories you heard over the years from friends and correspondences about their Beltane night festivities, made Dean's entire less-than-safe porn collection seem like vanilla 1950s courting sessions.

And that's where the problem strand from; you wanted so badly to see old friends and family again, to enjoy the festivities you've grown up enjoying. But going to the festival alone would be utterly _mortifying_ , it meant that you were sadly single, or you were ready to feast on a animalistic one-night stand

Kind of like a going to a Valentines Day party.

And then there was the blue-eyed angel you desired.

Castiel, had, for a long time now, been the unknowing subject of your heart's greatest yearnings and passions. It had started as deep respect for the angel; his vast span wisdom and other worldly strength and magic just screamed power and intimidation. From the get go, you knew this creature was not to be tried. Yet as time dwelled on, you found something else. One day you had asked him about why he had given so many sacrifices for you and the Winchesters, it was then you learned that you two held a common interest.

You both saw the Earth as a piece of art. Something so perfect in it's imperfection-the goods and bads that came when dealing with humanity, from the extravagant cities born from the knowledge God allowed his masterpieces, to the pure untouched landscapes crafted from His eye alone. You devoted your life towards caring and nurturing both sides of the earth you inherited. That same day you compared it to an artist handing an extra paintbrush to one of the pictures in the painting and see what they do with it.

The only difference in you twos' ideals was that, whilst you found yourself a self-aware fragment of God's artistic expressions, Castiel saw himself merely as an observer of the art. He deemed himself no direct part of it, except in being its curator and protector.

You made it your mission to include Cas in everything you and the boys did. Movie nights were planned for the four of you. He accompanied your hunts, your research sessions, and family meals (though he only watched). Heck, you've somehow got Castiel to agree to have you teach him about your magik.

And it must have worked since now, Castiel would stay and speak more frequently, and in your opinion, seemed to be acting more like he wanted to be a part of the unit, rather than just an out-world help. Plus, the more time you spent with him, the more time you spent loving him.

In retrospect who could blame you. His vessel alone was the cliche tall, dark, and handsome quota to a T. The scruffy, yet still semi-well kept facade that Castiel held in regards to the late Jimmy Novak's body could make any room grow warmer.

But on the inside it was even better.

The angel had warmed your heart with his odd contradicting mixture of intellect, naivety, selflessness, honesty, innocence, and protectiveness, all rolled up in a ball of fluffy and secured wonderment that was simply Castiel. If other angels claimed his 'problem' was ever 'too much' heart, then clearly, centuries of watching the Earth develop past war, famine, disease, and death, with hope and love to shield against... had been lost on those cold, insensitive statues.

It was insane, but you were in love; in deep, unprecedented love with Castiel.

Castiel, an angel from the Heavens...

A soldier of God...

Yeah, you were pretty much out of your league.

It was, and would remain an unrequited love, this you were well enough aware of and, to a degree, could accept. The only seemingly good thing about this was that Castiel could, despite being older than the creation of your planet, still be so incredibly oblivious that it was adorable.

This meant that those often too-long-taken gazes at him, the endless times you defended him against the scoldings and teasing of Dean when the celestial did something else out of the natural human status quo (like when he tried fitting his hand into a toaster), or the fact that you sought to drag him into any and all shenanigans your little family got in to, whether or not they were fatal or acquired angelic assistance in life-or-death means; every action, every notion, every little hint you left, intentionally or not,went right over that angel's halo.

So many traits about Castiel that put your emotions into this knotted mess.

But Beltane. You doubted an angel of God would enjoy the 'sins of flesh' or whatever, centered around a celebration rooted firmly in paganism such as Beltane. Truth be told you didn't know what Castiel's personal thoughts were on religious actions centered outside that of his Father, but judging from how 'dirty' Lucifer claimed Gabriel's lifestyle in it to be, your best guess was that of 'not very much'.

Sure, Castiel respected your beliefs and practices, but that didn't mean he had to like them, let alone enjoy them himself. Your thoughts of the sweet man, both in sexual themes, and fluffy romance, were impure and wrong. No doubt Castiel would be disgusted by the disgraceful content that filled your noggin each time he sat foot into the room.

And speaking of the seraph setting foot in the room.

You smiled "Good morning Castiel."as he entered.

"What the-AH!" Dean turned around to see Cas behind his chair.

"Dammit Cas, we talked about this!" The elder Winchester exclaimed.

"Yes." Cas nodded in affirmation. "At least four feet south of your body unless you are either dead or close to said action."

"Exactly! So?"

Castiel tilted his head. "I heard your distress about a killing look."

You stiffled back a giggle.

Big mistake. Now those green eyes hooked on you to glare. "Oh you think this is funny?" He asked. Your reply was more nervous laughter, a bad habit you developed as a child. "How the hell can you tell he's coming anyhow?"

You shrugged, turning towards the tea cup you had across from you. "Don't know Dean-o" You took a long exaggerated sip. "Witchy intuition, magik spell, the ability to be aware of my surroundings..." A smirk pulled at your lips. "You know, the usual."

Sadly that victory was short lived when you hypocritically failed to notice the angle at which your tea cup was being held at, and gave the thin liquid enough to slide down from it's porcelain prison and onto your shirt.

A hiss and whispered "Ah!" whisped out of your throat, and your hands made quick work in pulling the low collar of the fabric, where most of the stain hit, away from your reddening skin, and grabbing a handful of napkins to begin pat drying.

"Allow me."

"Woah Cas!" Dean intervened, "I don't think-

Suddenly that warm and comforting sensation that millions upon millions of tiny tendrils of grace skitting around the wounded area overtook you. Oh how you loved Castiel's grace, always so soothing, and sweet. It was only meant to heal physical harm, yet when that soft and welcoming streaks of his celestial power found you again, they so gently wrapped across the magik that had been entwined with your body since you were a child, they never mixed or taken over the other, yet came together in an embrace much like the hands of two lovers.

You looked up at Castiel, who by now must have known how much deeper you could detect his power than that of any other human, and yet...did, did he seem a tad red in the face?

"Castiel?"

When the seraph quickly snatched his hand away from you, taking that delightful joining of magik with him, you realized what just happened.

Sweet, innocent Castiel, had just unintentionally groped your breast.

"Well..." Dean dared to draw it out. "Way-ta go Cas-"

"Dare finish that line Winchester and I will personally hex away your ability to consume alcohol or carbohydrates."

Dean shut his mouth up real quickly, aside from the little smirk he kept.

* * *

Sam's POV

Sam looked over the scowl you gave Dean, and how quickly everything rushed back to normal in the bunker. His brother made quick work at the now-active coffee maker, and freshly sizzling bacon strips, but Sam could tell something wasn't right with Y/N. She had a minor stressing moment early that morning, and the moment she felt aware of Dean and himself being in the room, she bottled it all up again. Now she was snapping at Dean more than usual, something told Sam that it wasn't from a bad night's sleep.

And unfortunately his brother never knew when to quit pushing buttons.

"So what's gotten into you?" Dean remarked.

You glared, and scooted the computer closer to you from instinct, adding a "nothing" to it.

Fortunately though, Castiel decided to once again save Dean from a Hell. "Y/N has a right to private affairs Dean."

Now that those three were preoccupied with Dean scolding Cas for not backing him up against "Miss Morning Grump", Sam cocked his head a certain angle a could see something worth interest peaked. A blaring list of letters about 'Beltane'.

_"Beltane? Have I heard that somewhere?"_

Seems like Sam couldn't be saved though, when you caught eyes with him, and slammed the computer shut.

"Y/N what's Beltane?"

* * *

Your POV

Oh now you wanted to kill Sammy.

It was an unsaid agreement among the group that, as long as it wasn't **A) Life Threatening** and/or **B) Related to any cases** , your life as a witch was yours and yours alone.

At first a part of you was surprised there wasn't more questions thrown your way about how the Grand Council, or even just your original coven was like, especially Sam, seeing how he apparently had been the magik 'expert'-you snorted, between the two brothers before you or Cas showed up.

Over time however, you realized how awkward the brothers were to your contribution; magik, like everything else supernatural had been ingrained into them to be a means to an end. Literally living with said being of supernatural was keen to going against years of trained reflexes. That meant, it was more in your favor to keep it private; the less you spoke of your witchy life, the more human and therefore the less killable you seemed in their eyes.

But  _now_? Really? Right. Now? In the middle of everything, Sam wanted to ask you about the most sexual holiday on the Witches Calendar?

You gave him heavy steel eyes-a get go that he should have kept his mouth shut.

"It's a * _witch*_ thing."

Your response was cold, almost robotic. Good. You didn't want to appear spiteful or hateful; if anything, just aggravated at worst and blase at best. You felt two more sets of eyes watching you, now attentive to the conversation and to your next movements. The laptop was closed, now gripped tightly in between your fingers; your stomach no longer coveted food, and your mind was steadily leaning towards several hours of bedroom isolation.

A quick swing towards the hallway was your escape.

Luck may have it, your last case had been two days ago, it was still early in the morning, and no one was in real need of your assistance. This meant when you reopened the door to your bedchamber, you could happily close and  _*click*_  the lock into place without the presence of guilt or concern.

No, instead you tossed the laptop safely on top of your grey, velvet blanket, and scurried over to your work bench. Technically it was an ancient apothecary table, with a large vanity mirror screwed in on top, but for all intensive purposes, the furniture was used for every indulgent, from your spell-work to applying makeup.

A finger traced the air above your desk essentials. Everything needed for complex spell work either safety tucked away inside one of its many drawers, or inside the massive supply closet adjacent to your bedroom door-probably being an extra broom closet at one point but hey, things change.

Luckily you always kept essentials on the desk itself. A incense burner already fitted with a tea candle and homemade sage oil inside, and next to them a match book from one of the latest bars Dean dragged the three of you two during cases; you always made good to grab a couple whenever the situation offered for these exact reasons.

You struck a match, lit the burner, and proceeded to plop down onto the cozy velvet surface that was your memory foam bed, right next to the still unopened laptop.

Daring, you peaked your eye at the device and the contents it held. You groaned and closed your eyes again; you could deal with that later. Some quick excuse about a previously promised engagement, or just not responding all together might suffice.

Meh, you'd think on it in a little while.

* * *

Castiel's POV

Beltane.

The word sounded familiar at least. Perhaps he had heard it before, his best guess from a small human village during Europe's time of developing nations. That was a time when he and his siblings tended to be more observant of mankind. Right after the Black Death, Father had instructed them to watch the survivors, make sure they got back on their feet.

_Watch them stumble, but do not let them fall._

Indeed the Renaissance, as man had deemed it, was a fascinating time of observation.

Y/N's statement on the word being a 'witch thing' did not help matters at all. For the most part, Castiel-as well as every other angel in Heaven had turned away from the 'pagans' almost immediately after their rise . Even the angels who enjoyed watching humanity grow, could only stomach the witches for so long. They were considered a cursed race of mankind. Those who had scorned their Creator-used and abused their gifts; potentially trying to be equal to God themselves.

Revolting. Traitorous. Horrid. A disgrace.

And Castiel had felt the same. Confused, and angry that humans could do such a thing. Dare to fill the role of their Creator themselves? Worship other deities over their Father? Take from the Earth he gave them, and shift it into something so  _un_ human? It made no sense.

But then he met Y/N.

She was not the selfish, blind traitor he thought she was.

She didn't abuse the Earth, she connected to it.

She didn't forsake her Creator, she thanked Him, and sought guidance everywhere.

Y/N was a witch, just not the one Castiel was taught to hate.

When they had first met, he was suspicious, distant as ever. To say it was unusual for the Winchesters to allow her to help them, was an understatement. It soon became apparent that they took her opinions into account. They listened to her. Eventually, they depended on her. Her-a witch, a fallen human, an adjacent to the monstrous Children of Eve.

But when neither brother showed signs of hexes or enchantment, Castiel decided to cease a smiting and wait out for her eventual end-game strike against them.

There never was one.

And gradually, he too respected her, amazed by the way she converted the energy around her. He'd seen her change the entire atmosphere of a room by mere presence alone; had watched in astonishment as she convinced others to give her they're complete compliance and trust with a gentle touch and a few words.

He listened to her; drank in her stories of childhood, growing up in a respected coven, learning the ancient languages by heart, and spending endless hours feeling the world around her buzz with life. She explained to him what had been so brashly taught in Heaven. The Earth was not an item to be corrupted and broken by dark magik, but an endless source of energy and warmth that protected her as the proper home gifted by God. Magik was not meant as a power tool to upstage, but an instrument to play with and craft life.

The way she so proudly admired her teachings, and so sincere she was in those values struck a chord with him. Ever since his fall from Home, Castiel had begun to learn just how far his kin had trailed from those lessons and rules he had been taught during Earth's creation; how cynical and uncaring many of them truly were to the Art they're Father told them to love. And Y/N was the first to admit, not all witches came true to the lessons they were taught to keep. It saddened her- he could tell. But that didn't mean she was wrong.

_"If anything, it just means only a few of us are right. That's gotta count for something Cas."_

It was one of the many times the two held a conversation, that Y/N had told Castiel something he needed to hear.

Now it seemed she herself was lost, but he didn't know how to help her. He felt a longing, cold and guilty hanging on her soul-but she has trying to hide it.

Why?

"Hey Cas!"

Right. He was still in the kitchen with the Winchesters. Dean already finishing off a second abomination to breakfast foods, and Sam typing away at his own laptop. In fact it was Sam that beckoned him forward, eyes wide with direction and assurance. For minor curiosity, the seraph heeded the human giant's command and moved himself to stand beside Sam. From his position he could see the hunter was already making work on research.

Sam moved the screen forwards in Castiel's direction, inviting him to indulge in the opened tabs.

"I think I may know how to cheer up Y/N."

* * *

 

Your POV

A gentle tapping had awakened you from trance. It was familiar; a light knocking-two quick ones, followed by a slow third, a pause, then another two quick knocks. It was immediately recognizable. 

You smiled softly at how considerate the angel always was of your privacy. He, just like the brothers, knew the importance meditation and mental rest was to your work, and yet it seemed Castiel was the only one capable of a soft knock. Sam tried, but was unsuccessful. Dean didn't even attempt to hide his detachment every time his fist threatened to bang a hole in the wood of your door.

Then you remembered your little cold shoulder act this morning. No doubt Castiel caught on to your mood. Unlike the Winchesters, who you could always talk your way out of with a 'cranky morning' excuse, Castiel could always just _feel_ you, just as you could with him. Whether or not this was because of time spent together, or your magik connecting or a little bit of both, it didn't matter. You just hoped you could make a quick apology without the need for any full explanation.

Hoping-not praying (be a bit counter-productive there) for the best, you unfurled yourself from the bed and made your way to the door lock. Unlocking, and opening the door to be greeted by a bright pair of azure eyes.

 _Here goes nothing_. You thought.

Only Castiel beat you to the punch.

"Y/N."

You closed your mouth; apparently you weren't going to get to talk your way out of this just yet.

Castiel cleared his throat.

"Would you allow me to accompany you to Beltane?"

Your throat collapsed.

 


	2. The Road Less Traveled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo...it's been a while hasn't it. Hello my lovelies. First and foremost I am deeply sorry about leaving on that cliffhanger for over a month. At the time I was starting this fic, a lot of 'incidents' started occurring in my life around the same time-I won't get into it here, the details aren't relevant. What is relevant is that I will be posting the next chapter THIS SATURDAY as a sort-of 'make it up to you guys thing'. Hooray!!!
> 
> Oh and quick side note; there will be a few lines given to OCs in this fic-nothing incredibly important to the plot, just random people from the reader's coven that will interact with her and Cas; (hopefully) nothing too distracting. ;)
> 
> Now On With The Show!!!

_Breathe_

  
Eyes were closed, heart beat lowered to a steady adagio, and your mind detached itself from the physical manifestations of the world. Instead, you focused on movement, on the flow of energy surrounding you.

  
_Just breathe._

  
A hand placed itself above your heart, the never ceasing organ always pumping fresh blood, new life into you. Right above it you felt your core, the source of all magik inside you was humming, thrumming, and stretching out to touch the air around you, like roots of a tree. Feeling the air shifting, the leaves and blades of grass push and pull in the high speed wind. You felt the sun, high in the spring afternoon, beat down and coat you in a warmth so deep yet intangible, that no physical being could replicate.

But most of all, you felt him.

Ancient, strong, and pure-his presence enticed tendrils of your soul to stretch beyond your given boundaries and move towards him.

You could feel his grace directed towards your magik. He was watching you, maybe not with his vessel's eyes, but watching you all the same. Studying and investigating your soul's movements from beyond your physical body.

A grin couldn't help but appear on your face. It felt nice-not to be simply stared at, but carefully observed with his fascination directed to you, and you alone. Like this, you were no different than a prized crown jewel, gleaming and glittering under the watchful eye of an intrigued spectator.

The darling angel had such an endearing presence about him, one you couldn't help but find irresistible. If not for your respect of his personal space, you would gladly loosen the hold on your magik, let the energy expel onto him. No wonder he got you to agree to this.

* * *

 

_"Why?"_

_His head did that little side nod you were always so fond of. Eyes darted away from yours for a minute, before looking back up._

_"I have learned much more about humanity in the time I've spent with you and the Winchesters, than ever I had in Heaven."_

_He paused._

_"But I know I still have much to learn. Heaven has long misinterpreted those of your skill set Y/N, as have I."_

_Another pause. This time you looked up, and met the softness in his eyes._

_"But I do understand being an outsider. Missing the sense of familiarity of family. If you would allow me, I would like to observe and enjoy the festivities of your coven...with you."_

_You swallowed. "Castiel...I-I don't know if that's a good idea."_

_In the moment that was all you could have said. It was the best you could do. You couldn't straight up tell him no._

_Unless you apparently did._

_The deflated look in his eyes said it all. "I see."_

_Oh no._

_"...then perhaps Sam or Dean would-"_

_"Wait!"_

_The word had hit your vocal chords before you could stop it. The angel looked back up to your gaze. You didn't want him to go, to think you preferred one of the brothers over him, like it was somehow his fault specifically for your refusal._

_"I..it's not.." You sucked in a breath. "Its not like that Cas. I would like to go! I just didn't want to force yo-anyone! And..._

_And._

_...and I didn't want to go alone, and I know that hunting is a nonstop thing and I thought I..."_

_This loaded jumbled word vomit made up your vocabulary for a few solid moments of humiliation before the angel mercifully shushed you with a hand to your shoulder._  
  
_"It is not a burden Y/N. I would very much like to learn, and to see you content."_

_His gaze commanded your attention._

_"It would be my privilege."_

_In that moment you could only stumble out an "alright then" amidst a bright pink flush to your cheeks before Castiel nodded in the stern understanding of a general confirming an order. He thanked you, adding an adorably serious nod for good measure, before leaving you to continue meditation in peace._

* * *

 

He had you then, and he had you now-lost in the serenity of the moment, spurred on by his very presence alone. His encouraging gaze made you want to stretch out further, to touch, wrap, and completely smother your senses into him.

To curl around him, to feel this bright, soft, beautiful light blanket the earthly, ripened soul inside you.

  
To just-

  
_*No! Bad Y/N! Bad!*_

  
You refrained. Hastily, and sloppily dragging disturbed flows back towards your person. The blossoming energy of spring rejuvenated you much already; for the next few days discipline was your ally-structure and grounding was your safety net. If not, who knows what you might do. Drunk on newborn grounds, and enriched with ripening air.

Your eyes opened slowly; a refreshing boost electrified your body as you came down from trance.

Castiel's eyes were still on the road ahead of you, both hands on the steering wheel in that cautious matter you loved so much.

"What state are we in now?" You asked.

Castiel dropped gaze with the open road for a moment to look you over. The two of you had been driving for a few hours now, taking the more desolate roads per your request towards the Carlton Plantation. "Virginia. If we continue the routine of stopping every 6 to 8 hours for rest, we will make it to the Carlton plantation April 30th, late into the evening."

You nodded. "Good, at this pace we'll be there just in time."

His eyes went back towards the road. You could have sworn he almost looked guilty sitting there with a hanged head.

"I apologize the travel cannot be shorter....It would be less bothersome if so."

Your keen, magik trained eye could catch the faint glimmer of ruffling upon the angel's back-the scrapped and battered remains of mistakes with never ending consequence.

The second meaning of his words struck a chord with you. "It's no problem Castiel." You slumped back into your seat. "Honestly I'm just happy you don't mind taking all these long winded roads. The large, spanned out areas over time are very beneficial to me. I can get better in touch for Beltane."

Speaking of which.

You hand trailed over to your bag in the car floorboard and plowed into the fabric to the feel of cold plastic. Pulling it out high for Castiel to see, you displayed a clear bottle of sea green liquid, chocked with tiny black, red, and white particles inside it. You swirled the bottle around, allowing Cas to see thick bubbles slowly forming at the top of the closed encasement. A wide grin formed on your mouth before you screwed off the cap and chugged it down, a scent of pine and sea foam filling your nostrils.

"Ah!" You gasped out the moment you had a second to breathe. "Detoxification... _definitely_ the hardest part of any celebration. Yeah..." You leaned back in your seat.

Castiel gave a look to your empty bottle.

You caught it. "It okay Cas. Detox is suppose to clear and purify our vessels for celebration. Your vessel is already clear Castiel."

His stare intensified.

"What toxin is in your body? I can't detect any?"

A giggle bubbled out from you. "Not 'toxin' exactly. Its more like...flushing out anything non-organic from my body. When witches celebrate, our intentions are to bring our bodies as close to a natural state as possible."

_*And to insure safer orgies.*_

"Oh..."

Your smile softened. "Its okay Cas. You're learning. That's why we're here."

_*That's why we're here. Nothing else. Don't feel guilty.*_

"Yes." His eyes left yours. "I will try as much as I can not to embarrass you."

"You will do no such thing!" You exclaimed. He kept his eyes on the road.

"Castiel." You mumbled. He already had one hand on the steering wheel, while the other had fallen and rested on top of the console; you reached your hand on top of his.

"Cas..." You squeezed softly.

"Will all of your family relation be there?" He still wasn't looking at you.

"Um..kinda. I mean, it was an open invitation to the entire coven. They'll be people from multiple branch families, not just mine."

"And guests are welcomed in the festivities?"

_*Oh are they ever.*_

Guilt seeped into you. You had yet to tell him-or warn him technically, about the main function of your holiday. And honestly, you were still in that phase of wishful thinking, where the possibility of not having to tell him was still in your framework of reality.

_*Maybe you could just usher him to help you with something right before sundown and just stay in your room.*_

You sighed. "Cas you'll be fine! Trust me...okay."

The angel turned his head temporally away from the road to meet your gaze. That bright blue stare seemed to almost steer past you; it was harsh, yet knowing, like he was searching for something. It only broke for a moment, past you and down to your neck.

You never took your amulet off. It looked simple enough, thin wires of silver were bent into a circular pattern with a stone set in the middle, but inside it was alive. It always held the faintest hum of warmth on your skin-a second heartbeat that matched your own. With it, you always felt protected, shielded away from supernatural interference.

But now Castiel was looking at it sharply, almost defensively, like the answer to a question you didn't want to hear.

More than a little protective, the hand that wasn't covering Castiels', went towards the ancient rune.

Not a second later, you felt Castiel's eyes turn away from you and back to the road; his once rested hand went back to the steering wheel; leaving yours on the console cold.  
You slumped into the car interior and turned to face the window. Since Cas wasn't going to speak at the moment, you pulled out your phone and to the text messaging app. No new messages, but you reread what Sam and Dean had texted you a while ago.

**SAMoose: Hey, ignore anything from Dean. Just focus on your holiday. You earned it Y/N.**

At the time you thought his message strange when you got it. That mystery was quickly solved when Dean had messaged you about a half hour later.

**De-De: Good luck with Cas and the Hocus Pocus cast. Have fun!...But not too much. ;)**

It was the last text from Dean that caught you. _*Not too much?*_ It was obviously an innuendo, Dean did that to anyone. But something about that last line concerned you. Sam told you to ignore him, but even that seemed suspicious.

Did...did they know?

_*No. No they couldn't.*_

You buried the thought. Sure those two were tricky little troublemakers, but they wouldn't do something like that to you. Heck, as far as you knew, no one on Team Free Will even knew that much about Witch culture, aside from yours truly.

You were just letting the new spring energy get to you.

Yeah that's it.

* * *

 

The Carlton Plantation was one of many properties the Head Family of your coven owned, and with that, you had only been to it a mere handful of times in your life, last time being back when you were in middle school for a Midsummer party they were hosting. The other times, celebrations were either held at a different property, or hosted by a branch family like your own.

It is for that very reason, you muddled through the Google Maps app on your phone to find the main driveway, less you make the already doubtful angel drive the two of you to the barns by mistake.

"Now we take a left."

"Y/N, I have already taken the left road three times, indeed we may end up in a obvious circular pattern if this continues."

You persisted. "Just two more turns, we should be coming up towards the manor."

In the spirit of the holiday, you chose to ignore the obvious circular pattern Cas' eyes just gave you and proceed with the directions.

On the corner of your phone the time said 2:57 AM, three minutes until the Witching Hour. You could internally chuckle at the coincidence.

Finally the brightly lit lanterns outside Carlton Manor were in sight.

"Here Cas." You pointed at the entrance. "Just drop me off here; I can sign us in, and you can park the car by the barns by the right lane." The angel nodded and allowed you time to unbuckle out of your seat before taking off in the direction you provided; leaving you underneath the amber glow of Carlton Manor's porch lit lanterns.

As you walked in, you were shook by the sudden stillness around you. No moving energy was apparent. Most families must have arrived earlier that night if that was the case, and true to thought, in the robust lobby, all was silent.

Well, all except for a faint _*tip*_

_*Tip* *Tip*_

_*Tip* *Tip*_

The obnoxious sound grew louder as you made your way entirely, past the foray and into the main greeting area, which at one point was probably a parlor, but now more resembled a hotel lobby with its decor place meticulously to leading the guest towards the end of the wall where a main check-in desk was.

_*Tip* *Tip* *Tip*_

_*Tip*_

The first thing you noticed from the young woman at the desk was that she was very young-maybe a teenager with that scrawny frame. Second was that she was bored-her jaw went up in down in the chewing motion for a stick of gum, while her finger nails continued to hit the desk in that exaggerated  _*tipping*_ manner.

But it was the hand she was tapping with, that caught your attention. A rose gold bracelet layed across her wrist, with a large S on the chain.

You smiled. "Does your sister know you have her bracelet?"

The girl's head shot up, likely ready to snap at you, before she actually met your eyes.

"Y/N?" The scrawny girl gasped, her hazel eyes grew, showing off the full round shape. "Wow!"

You felt your cheeks burn under her reaction, and found yourself jolted up when a slim pair of arms embrace you happily. "Its been way too long (nickname)!"

"Yeah..." You muttered and carefully put your arms onto hers, softly pulling them away from yours. "Its good to see you kiddo."

"Ugh." Sonya scoffed, blowing a section of her hair out of her face. "I'm fifteen now Y/N, and almost done with my medium training. My kiddie days are over."

You rolled your eyes-she sounded a lot like you when you were her age. Nonetheless you smiled at the young witch in training.

"Alright then, 'adult Sonya'! May I have our keys?"

"Oh! Right! Totally!" The over excited girl bounced back to the front desk and pulled out a bright red registry book.  
  
"Still using paper records?" You asked with a raised eye.

"Yeah!" Sonya made eye contact with you for a moment, just only to show you her rolled eyes before going back to the list of names. "Nana insists on it. She says we have to 'uphold our traditions'. I mean, its just paper right?"

In light of not causing a scene with a young teenager, you stayed silent about the important implications of ancient magik and natural energy when using parchment, in comparison to modern age technology.

"There you are. And guest?" She smirked and pointed a poorly polish-removed fingernail at your name.

"Room two-zero-th...thr-thre-THREE!!!"

Her eyes popped up, you could have sworn they were about to fall from their sockets, and her complexion had grown much too pale for your liking.

You reached for her hand. "Sonya?"

"I parked the car and retrieved the bags."

Your shoulders slumped in relief. It was just Castiel; you must have been more tired than you thought. You didn't even pay attention to his grace's change onto the atmosphere. You turned around to meet his eyes. It must had started raining, if the tiny water stains decorating his trench-coat meant anything. The dear thing even had a few droplets hanging on the tips of his hair.

You smiled. "I can see that." To ease him, you took one of the bags, and with your free hand, wiped at a few water droplets dripping from his hair. "Your hair is soaked." You giggled. "We better let you dry off in the room. Here." With one of his hands free, you slid the room key into his palm. "Go ahead of me. We're on the second floor. I just need to sign in."

He gave a nod of understanding, and followed your direction to the stairs  
.  
As the angel went up the staircase, you returned your attention to Sonya, who was now gasping like a fish at you.

"Th-th..that guy is w-with you?!"

"Um...yeah?"

"Wow...Y/N..." Sonya breathed. You meanwhile grabbed the guest pen and proceeded to sign your name under the check-in panel.

Then she laughed, a sharp and almost nervous sort of sound.

"Gotta say (nickname), he's impressive. His energy alone, I mean, he almost knocked me to the floor."

Your shoulders stiffened and your head shot up to meet her.

She chuckled as she took back the registry and handed you the second room key. "You've got good taste."

"Uh...huh." You muttered softly, and quickly turned away from the cocky looking teenage witch, towards the staircase.

Your guest room held true to the woodland theme of the area surrounding the plantation. Light green wallpaper with dark green silhouettes of leaves, covered the walls, floor to ceiling, with humble golden light fixtures at the corners. The carpet was a rich chocolate brown, matching the dark brown ceiling on top holding the largest light fixture in place. Furniture was simple; a dark wood vanity, a wardrobe in the corner, and two nightstands, one on each side of the one queen bed in the room's center.

 _*Great. One bed.*_ You internally groaned and made quick work to dampen down the already forming, fertile fantasies.

A smaller door on the opposite wall opened up, a bathroom most likely, entering Castiel with freshly dried, and extra messy looking hair.

_*Messy...dark...soft hair for finger combing and tugging when he-SNAP OUT OF IT!*_

"Y/N?"

_*Speak idiot!*_

"Sorry..." You mumbled. "Got lost in thought." You cleared you throat, and threw the still in-hand bag onto the bed and unzipped its contents.

_*Oh wait.*_

"Cas.

Before we go, I need to ask you for a favor."

The angel's focus shifted to you.

"Is there something wrong?"

You were unsure how to go about asking him, it would be very easy to take your request the wrong way-possibly insult to the point of leaving the festival. "I-I need you to..." Oh how were you going to put it? "To...not tell anyone you're an angel, or show your wings..and maybe tone down the grace?"

He eyed you with a look that was both confused, angry, and perhaps solum; it was hard to tell.

"Most witches are extremely territorial Castiel!!! And defensive-especially with Heaven; the persecution..and-and the history we have isn't good, and _some_ people might consider you a threat on a principle alone and..."

The words were tumbling out again in that tangled web you messily constructed whenever you were nervous about something. Eventually you just ended the sentence half way, hoping he'd get the picture. Sonya was one thing, she was young, naive, and had never realized how distinct a heavenly source would be in comparison to the magik of the Earth. But other witches, especially the elders in the clan, would be another story; even if they didn't know he was an angel, they could very well still feel threatened.

And a threatened witch was never any good for anyone involved.

Years of pent up hatred of the witch trials, the Men of Letters massacres, and most recently, the almost end-of-days apocalypse, were all still fresh boils of red hot rage inside even the most passive of witches.

You tried explaining this, to almost no avail, and Castiel was silent for much too long a time before he spoke.

"That's fair."

It was a plain, dare you say, passive aggressive response.

You took in a breath. "O-okay." A meek reply that probably wouldn't even had been heard if not the angel hearing. The seraph nodded and you grabbed for your duffel, hoping for a change in subject.

"Anyways...I need to get dressed, we'll need to get down to the main orchard clearing in the next few hours or so." As you explained this, you began piling fabrics onto your arm and snatching a smaller baggy with cosmetics.

"Is there a particular dress I should be in?"

For a split second you raised your hand to his shoulder, but quickly retrieved it back.

"Oh!-Um...not really." You mumbled. "I didn't want to push you into anything, but-" Your hands went back into the duffle, shuffling for the extra items you sneaked in for emergency reasons. "I brought these to make it easier for you."

In your hands layed a pair of long dark brown pants, neatly folded into a square; on top of them was a simple pair of comfy brown gardening shoes.

"I guessed your size." Heat rose to your cheeks. "Its all optional, but we're gonna be outside for the most part of two days. Here-uh, you should probably at least keep the suit jacket off, and your dress shoes. I'd hate for your clothes to get ruined."

"Thank-You." Castiel made a grab for the items in your grip; as he did, your hands brushed against each other-almost instinctively a tiny spark of your magik reached out to his vessel-just a tiny spark.

The angel perked his head up at you.

You gulped.

_*Stupid, stupid, stupid! Get out of there!*_

Before you could give him a chance to react, you bolted to the bathroom and slammed the door closed.

Your could even feel your magik becoming frantic, practically sparking out of you like a spritzed out fuse.

 _*Okay Y/N get a hold of yourself*_ You began taking deep breaths. _*Its just the spring time energy getting to me. Focus on Castiel, on **helping** him. Nothing else. He's here, its too late to change anything now, we move on.*_

You kept breathing, taking back your magik and settling back into your core.

_*Okay. Now lets get to work.*_

You pulled out the layers and layers of fabric from your bag and began to lay them out to quickly maneuver around a circular skirt shape. You looked over at the carefully opened hole sewn around the center of what still seemed to must be a large pile of material, and stepped in; pulling your arms out, your found the short sleeves and raised your arms to fit them, and snugly tugged the bright green top over your torso and down securely to your waist. Embroidery in the shape of vines, blossoms, and spring time animals like hummingbirds and honeybees decorated your bodice, only to spiral into further complexities down the several layers of different colored fabric that made up your skirt. First purple, then green, then pink, and lastly brown, the skirt only reached just above your ankles. Though at first glance, its weight seemed extraordinary, the fabric was in reality, very thin, wispy, and light on your body; it flowed and draped down like clouds in the wind that flew and danced whenever your moved them.  
  
You smiled, feeling at home in the flowing costume. The bathroom vanity mirror was fairly large-especially being that it was meant for two people, and that allowed you plenty of room for your several minuscule colors, pens, and powders to flood the counter. Only a faint dusting of powder was needed for concealer purposes, added by slick streaks of highlighter to give your cheeks a glimmering sheen. Peach blush gave a lively flush to your face. You took the green eye pen and started tracing a long stem, starting at the outer corner of your left eye and down curled across your cheek. Grabbing a darker pen you gave detailed leaves and streaks for shaping. A range of bright colors began to be used and discarded, back and forth, swept across your eyelid and below it, carefully crafting a voluminous flower blooming over your eye, colored and shaded in several light and dark pinks, blues, and yellows.

For your opposite eye, you kept it simpler, only a bright green eyeliner, giving you a cat eye, with a thin gold line by the corner. Your right cheek was given a variety of long stems starting from the bottom near the chin, to just right bellow the cheek's apple. Tiny white and yellow paints were tipped on the stem tops, becoming dandelions across your cheekbone.

Lastly you smeared some chap-stick over your lips and added a nice neutral color over it.

You slipped on a pair of well worn leather sandles, leaving only one other thing that was in your bag.

And you were good to go.

"Alright Cas." The bathroom door creaked open. "I'm ready to...

The next breath you were about to take became conveniently lodged in your throat.

..go..." You smiled softly.

Castiel stood there like a deer caught in the headlights with a look so lost and confused, like that of a small child trying to dress themselves. His dress blazer sat on the bed, beside his beloved trench coat . In his fingers, he fumbled with his tie, no longer on connected to his shirt collar. Your smile grew; he was no longer wearing his dress pants and dress shoes; those were opposite of the jackets at the headboard. He was actually wearing the gifts you gave him.

"Good to go?" You smirked playfully.

"Um." The seraph went silent, but you noticed his eyes cast down to the corner of the bed.

You caught on quickly, and made a grab towards his trench coat.

"It might get cold, it'll make sense to take this." You reached your hand out in offering for him to take the item he was so obviously desiring that very moment.

It was as if you told him he was allowed to _breath_ , judging by the look he gave you. This time, you hid a hand in the fabric when he took the beige coat back-so as not to cause any disturbance. It hardly took a second for Castiel to take it back. He was so attached to the thing, like a security blanket for a child. Once he put it back on, you could sense his spirit had calmed down, now relaxed in the home that was his trench coat.

It was wonderfully precious.

You in turn took out the last bundle from your duffel. A soft, velvet cloak shaded in lavender was draped over your back, hanging by the thin pieces of matching ribbon you proceeded to tie across your collarbone.

In the corner of your room, a glint had caught your eye. When you turned to face it, you realized you hadn't noticed the full length dressing mirror attached to the wardrobe, back when you first came in. In the side view of your vision, you could make out the picture of the two of you.

Castiel must have followed your gaze, since now he had shifted positions, standing right beside you, directly in front of the mirror. Even with his trench coat still on, without his suit Castiel looked so...relaxed, casual you might say. Dressed in loose fitting brown pants and shoes, no tie or classy dress clothes to be found.

And beside him there was you, draped in the dark, earthy colors of Beltane; like a fae, decorated in an assortment of picturesque flora and fauna, from your bodice, to your vibrantly painted face. It reminded you of the many stories taught to you as a child, of simple young men meeting with the mystical fae and nymphs of the land. It looked surreal, it _felt_ surreal, how different and yet how perfectly aligned the two of you looked together. He seemed more human, you seemed more unearthly. A paradox only found in the mirage of looking glass.

_*Maybe this could work.*_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-You for being so understanding about the hiatus; if you liked this chapter Kudos me; or if you have some opinions (good, bad, critical, question) COMMENT-THEY GIVE ME MY LIFE FORCE. Thanks again, and I'll see you lovelies later. Bye!

**Author's Note:**

> Okay I admit, first chapter is pretty vanilla, but I've got to save the juicy stuff for later chapters, which I will be posting within the next week. What did you think? Any ideas for the Beltane festival? Any ideas for Cas or Reader? Am I too wordy? TELL ME! HIT ME WITH YOUR BEST SHOT! No, really, I actually respect readers giving constructive criticism.


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